Strength
by Sahara Storm
Summary: [Oneshot, Okoi-centric] Saemon has never been so proud of his sister's strength.


**Title:** Strength

**Fandom:** Basilisk

**Pairing:** Really vague Saemon/Okoi.

**Rating: **PG

**Word Count: **789

**Summary/Description: **Saemon has never been so proud of his sister's strength.

**Warning/Spoilers:** Spoilers up to Episode 8. I should warn you for incest, I suppose, except that it's not, not really.

**A/N: **New fandom, yay. Basilisk is fixing to be a favourite of mine. Anyway, I was so fucking **angry** after Episode 8, and I just _had_ to write this for Okoi (who I fell in love with after I first saw her in the starting song).

**Dedication: **For Rachel and her haphazard DVD-buying ways, for introducing me to this series. :)

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Basilisk, Episode 8 would have never happened.

* * *

Strength can be defined on many levels. Saemon knows that, perhaps more than anyone, having a case study such as Okoi.

His sister was simply born into strength. She came into the world with a big, lusty cry, a healthy eleven pounds. Growing up, she was always scrappy; never one to pick a fight, but never hesitant to join one, or defend who and what she loved. She developed into a tough young woman, with a raw beauty that compliments her full physique, and a petite voice that belies her fierce nature. Strength runs in lines in her sleek muscles and small, callused hands. Saemon cannot think of another fist he would rather have to back him up in a battle.

Okoi's strength is not only material; she is also one of the most mentally strong people Saemon knows. His sister is a brick; it will take much more than your superficial probing and torture and mind games to break her. She bears everything with a smirk or a smile, and if you _do_ manage to get to her, she will never let you know the extent.

But Okoi's strength stems from something much deeper, much purer. Okoi is strong because she can be so very kind and gentle; the epitome of a lady. That is not to say his sister is all sweetness; put Okoi in the right situation, with the right factors, and she and sadism will get along like a house on fire. But there is something about her gentle nature that bears witness to a fortitude that can bring a man to his knees…

Saemon thinks that perhaps he managed to siphon a little bit of that fantastical strength off of his sister. Otherwise, he cannot comprehend however in the world he manages to _not_ scream to wake the dead when he opens the door to the Iga storehouse, and sees Okoi sprawled out on the floor, an animal of a man looming above her, clothing askew and skin awash in a patchwork of blood.

His eyes widen, and he cannot suppress an intake of breath.

It is a hard battle, but in the end, shock does not get the better of him. He remains the master of his countenance, only but for the tightening of the jaw that was not his own, and the closing of a fist. But… Okoi, helpless, almost lifeless, bleeding on the floor… it is like sacrilege, the most disgusting of blasphemies, to see the very paragon of strength reduced to hapless prey for an Iga scum, nothing but sport. Saemon notes the shaggy-haired man tightening his belt, and lightning spurts into his veins. He wants nothing but to kill him.

He cannot, though. His cover cannot be betrayed right now, and he is a ninja before he is anything else.

He walks forward slowly, mechanically answering the questions posed to him. He comes to a stop in front of his sister's body. He can feel the slickness of her blood beneath the sole of his shoe, and nothing in his life has ever hurt him this bad. He has failed her. He sent his little sister on a suicide mission, and did not reach in time to save her. He closes his eyes very slowly, with the weight of the anguish, feeling like something inside him has expired.

Slowly, he sits. The snake-girl and the hairy bastard who killed her are right behind him, so he knows he has to be careful. He deflects the man's questions, and when the girl (Hotarubi?) starts arguing with her clans-mate about something, Saemon takes the opportunity to look at his sister carefully. She breathes, but only just barely, and he can feel the life leaving her with every second that passes. There is nothing to be done.

Yet… Saemon cannot help but be buoyed when he notices streaks of blood near Okoi's mouth, and when he discerns that her complexion to far too rosy for a woman who has lost so much blood, a woman so near death. His mouth twitches. His sister was strong; she did not go down without a fight. He wagers she had at least one full 'helping' this night. She fought; she did her duty, and defended her clan. And Saemon is willing to bet she did not betray even a sliver of information.

He can feel his eyes prickling, but refuses to disgrace Okoi by crying over her body. His sister died a proud death; it should remain so, untarnished by trappings of the heart.

Carefully, he takes a smooth hand into his own, and presses against it gently. She shifts, and squeezes back lightly, and Saemon has never been so proud of his sister's strength.

* * *

**A/N: **I loved that girl so much. (mourns all over again) 


End file.
